"And? What are you going to recommend?"
He paused. Looked back at me.
"You'll find out at the council session."
"That's not an answer."
"No. It's not." His amber eyes held mine for a moment longer than necessary. "But I will tell you this—whatever happens, whatever I recommend... I'm glad I came here."
He left before I could respond.
I sat in Stone's room for a long time after, trying to understand what had just happened. Trying to interpret the weight in Cole's words, the look in his eyes, the strange feeling that something had shifted between us without either of us acknowledging it.
That night, Rae found me in the corridor outside Stone's room.
"Cole submitted his preliminary report," she said. "The council session is scheduled for day after tomorrow."
"Do you know what he recommended?"
"No. He filed it directly with Werrow. Sealed until the session." Rae's expression was troubled. "But he's requested to extend his stay. Indefinitely."
My stomach dropped. "What does that mean?"
"I don't know. It could mean he thinks the situation requires ongoing monitoring. It could mean he's seen something that concerns him." She paused. "Or it could mean something else entirely."
"Something else like what?"
Rae shook her head, looked at me. Through me, then she walked away.
I stood in the corridor, alone, trying to make sense of everything.
Cole was staying. The council session was in two days. Stone was alive but still more wolf than human. And somewhere in all of it, something was shifting—something I couldn't name but could feel pressing against the edges of my awareness.
And when I finally fell asleep that night, curled up on the small bed in Stone's room with his wolf form pressed warm against my side, I dreamed of amber eyes watching me from across a room.
Waiting.
Chapter twenty-eight
The day before the council session, I broke.
Not publicly. Just a quiet unraveling in the privacy of the small bathroom attached to Stone's room, where I'd gone to splash water on my face and found myself gripping the sink with white knuckles, unable to let go.
My hands were shaking. Had been shaking for hours, maybe days. I'd stopped noticing.
Through the bonds, I felt my mates—Stone sleeping fitfully in the other room, James across campus wrestling with worry he couldn't express, Neal buried in medical reports trying to find anything that might help at tomorrow's session. All of them carrying weight. All of them looking to me.
And Cal.
Cal was closer. Moving through the Healing Center with purpose. Coming toward me.
I didn't have the energy to wonder why. Just stayed where I was, hands braced against the sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror. The woman looking back at me was a stranger—hollow-eyed, gaunt, held together by nothing but stubbornness and bond-deep love.
The door opened behind me.
"Lumi."
Cal's voice. Human. He'd shifted before coming in.
